Absolution in Winter's Arms
by Meitantei Conan
Summary: [WilsonChase][SLASH] There's always been a high price to pay for a happy ending.
1. Chapter 1: Ignorance

_You never meant to hurt him, but that's all you seemed to do. Broken smiles and a closed off expression— that was all you ever saw. That's all you ever knew._

-+-

The numbers were harsh against the slip of paper and Chase found that he couldn't even look away from them. James was off resting in bed, having been down from a bad cold, and all the Aussie had to do was the laundry. He figured it was an easy task, really, but now, as he is staring at the messy handwriting on the slip of paper, he feels his stomach churning wildly against him. The paper feels like needles between his fingertips and he's unsure of how to go about it— if he should touch the subject at all.

Swallowing thickly, the blond moves tentatively down the hallway and peers into the bedroom where the man he called his lover was resting, lying beneath a heap of blankets.

"James, are you awake?" He calls uncertainly into the room.

The oncologist sits up slowly, sniffling and raises a brow at his obviously distraught Aussie. For some terrible reason, he can feel absolute hell brewing. Something was terribly wrong. Chase approaches the other man and sits on the edge of the bed, still trying to decide what he wanted to do with the slip of paper in his palm. His heart was thumping against his chest and fear was setting in.

Letting his body go through the motions, his hand jutted out as he let impulse take over him, the slip of paper hurled at the opposite man's chest. James carefully picked it up, brows furrowed. The moment he saw the numbers, though he crushed the paper in his hand. Dark browns lifted so that blues could meet them. It felt like, by that gaze alone, they were waging war upon each other— each one battling desperately for answers, for truth, for… anything but the tension in the room.

"Why?" Chase finally dares.

"It was in the past. When I was looking for the house key—"

"The house key, right." The blond remarked, snorting softly and turning his back upon the man. "Whose number is it?"

"No ones."

This time, sharp blues met cold browns. Silence passed between them, the tension hovering around them almost suffocating. "It sure must be someone's." Chase finally snapped, his words venomous.

Things would be much easier if Wilson would just tell him who it was and when it had happened. Things could've gone back to the peaceful moments they shared before those numbers were glowing in one another's mind and the fire was set ablaze in their eyes. It was in a flurry of seconds that Chase swept up the crumpled paper and moved for the telephone. Wilson made a move to stop him, but his moves were sluggish and delayed thanks to cold medicines.

Chase, however, was already at the phone, listening as the dial tone blared on and on at him endlessly. When he did finally receive an answer, he grimaced, slamming the phone back to its receiver. By this time, Wilson had made it to the living room where the phone sat with Robert's hand clamped tightly over it.

"A hotel?" The man's voice was grim and Wilson looked to his feet for a moment before dark eyes lifted. This was all from the past, he wasn't to blame! He hadn't even been seeing Chase at the time! Hell, he hadn't even cared that the man existed at all.

"It was in the past, Chase. Let it be. It's not relevant." James warned, the flame of anger within him only growing.

"Who was it you saw in the hotel?"

"No one."

"Who?"

"No one."

"It was House, wasn't it?"

Wilson cringes visibly and looks away from the man again, the broken sound of his voice painful to his ear, "Yes, it was." He admits quietly, but there is still confidence hidden in that voice.

Chase isn't sure why he is so angry, but he is. His mind was already unstable and this news was not something he really needed. Not at all. With thoughts of his very mother ghosting through his mind and Wilson's prodding questions from the night before, he's still too open, too vulnerable. And here he was, years of built up emotion escaping, flowing out through the serious placid tone in his voice.

"And you weren't going to tell me? Were you going to assume that I wouldn't notice?" Chase was too calm for this. Too, too calm.

"There was no need for you to know. You didn't ask and it was in the past."

"How would I know to ask? You're hardly an open book. And we've tried that once before, it only ends up like… like this!" He threw his hands up in exasperation, eyes serious and slanted in on Wilson.

These attacks from Chase, they came too often lately. Each day the male was becoming more and more irritable and closed off. When he did finally get the intensivist to open up, he exploded, snapped and chewed him to bits. It was too much to handle. He didn't deserve any of this at all, any of it.

"I'm leaving…"

Chase wasn't sure he was hearing things correctly.

"W-…what?"

"You heard me clearly."

Any and all anger that Chase had been feeling fled swiftly. Of all things, he thought he would be the one saying that to Wilson, not the other way around. It didn't work that way! It just didn't!

"I'll be out in the next few days, then I suppose you won't have to worry about secrets anymore, hm?" It was a bitter statement and the smile on Wilson's face was anything but friendly. But he could see the hurt look in Chase's eye and almost considered just sweeping the man up right then and there, to cure the hurt in those blue eyes.

"All…right then." Uncertainty clouded Chase's voice, "I'm…I'm going to go out for a while."

And when Chase slipped on his shoes and disappeared out the door, James wished direly to reach out and stop the blond, but he didn't, and he had a feeling he would regret it highly later.

-+-

_You knew ignorance would be the death of you._


	2. Chapter 2: Regret

_You just want to apologize and go back to being everything that you were, but you're cold, and you can't get warm. But you come to realize… you don't mind the cold anymore._

-+-

The rain had never been so refreshing. Typically, Chase hated any kind of bad weather but today he didn't mind it. The water rushed over him and calmed his heated nerves, and he stared up at the sky, thinking. His mind turned the conversation over in his head, playing each word back to him.

"I'm an idiot…" He murmured, but he knew it wouldn't do any good at all. After all, he had already lost the oncologist and the man seemed pretty serious when those words left his lips.

He wondered what he could've done to change things, to mend the sudden break between them. He had never been left feeling so…lost and he hated that sensation altogether. He had opened up, offered his past, his hurts, everything that bruised him to the oncologist and he was repaid in full.

He was now alone.

Then again, he had always really been alone, hadn't he?

-+-

Regret.

It was welling up within him and he hated the silence that seemed to fill the apartment that only reminded him of everything he thought just might work, just might make him into something new – show him that not all good things end in failure.

But Wilson was left alone again, too, but by his own accord. But Chase had taken it all far easer than he expected. In actuality, he took everything far, far better than really expected.

This led the oncologist to wonder, slowly turning thoughts into dangerous, lethal ideas.

Did Chase ever really love him? That was a real question. After any split or divorce (which, those came often, actually) he always questioned the stability of the love and warmth of the relationship. Was it all just a lie, something he dreamt was there while he was living in a stone cold world that only scorned and stoned him?

Perhaps the whispered words and tender kisses were all part of that sweet lie. Even if they were, he found himself missing them, wishing to feel the lingering of the other man's lips on his skin. But perhaps that's all his love for Chase was? Physical, material— t wasn't heart felt, now that he thought of it. Slowly, he began to come upon a devastating thing, something that even made his stomach plunge.

Did he even love Chase?

Had he been the one lying the whole time, truly, through his teeth while he curled close to the Aussie, while he shared anything and everything about his daily routine with that lovely blond?

He was pathetic. He was downright disgusting. He hated himself.

Until he began to accept it as the truth.

Accepting that maybe, his world would always be filled with lies.

Picking up the phone, he listened to it ringing, hoping that there would come an answer at some point, that he could find temporary salvation in the voice that would call out a gruff 'hello'. Ah, but as was to be expected, the answering machine kicked in.

"Greg, it's me. I...was wondering, "Something was grabbing at the back of his mind, telling him to stop, to hang up the phone, "If I could stay at your place for a while. Chase and I…"

The phone picked up and he heard the other man's voice.

"Finally running back to me, Jimmy?" It was sarcasm, but it held more truth than he oncologist really wanted to face.

"I'll see you in ten."

Wilson hung up, not answering House's question. He had already packed his clothing and anything and everything he could think was his in the home. Everything had just started to blend so he began to lose track of what was now his instead of 'theirs'.

And as he moved for the door, he opened it and stared in at the dark, empty apartment for a long while before turning and shutting the door, disappearing down the hallway and out of the building.

A building that already held a huge portion of him, a building he thought, once, he would never have to leave.

_You're being childish, Jimmy,_ he reminded himself, sighing gently and moving out to his car.

And even though he was content with leaving, he wouldn't admit that, somewhere, they was a terrible pool of guilt and dread hiding beneath his walls.

-+-

_You just learn to get used to the cold because it's the only constant in your life. And you really begin to think that's all there ever will be._


	3. Chapter 3: Denial

_Running is an instinct and you want to run now, but not once did you ever expect anyone to chase you. _

-+-

Chase couldn't bring himself to return to his apartment. The thought crossed his mind, it did, but his feet always carried him in a different direction. The blond was still trying to piece everything back together, trying to close back up, to recover.

To anyone who didn't know the man, he would just be a wandering lad, staring aimlessly at the barren branches of trees and walking the sidewalks. He had to have been cold. A short sleeve t-shirt and jeans did very little to defend anyone against the brisk winds that settled in for winter or the forecasted freezing rain. But he didn't seem to mind it – or, rather, he didn't seem to feel it.

He knew he was at fault, but it was still aching in the back of his mind. That Wilson had seen House, and, maybe, possibly had seen House while they were together. But he scolded himself, telling himself that Wilson wouldn't cheat, wouldn't lie like that. He just never gave Wilson that chance. He pushed him away

Soon enough, his mind was void of any thought and he walked just to walk, looking around at anything and everything, but never really soaking it in. Before he could stop himself, he just collapsed against a bus stop's bench and lay there, letting the rain beat in his skin and drive away any and all thought. He'd lay there until he was tired of the beating and then, maybe, he'd have the strength to go home.

-+-

The answering machine beeped for the third time that day and Lisa Cuddy was hardly pleased. It had been two days and one of their most needed intensive care workers had not shown, called… anything, and he was no where to be found. They were understaffed for the holidays as it was, she didn't need part of House's team up and disappearing.

Sighing and rubbing a hand over her forehead, she let out a sigh, mind working to find a solution for the problem. Before she could ponder too deeply, a light knocking at the glass of her doors caught her attention, "Come in…" She murmured, stress evident in her voice. She was now more than a little worried.

"Any word?" James didn't sound nearly as concerned as he should have and Cuddy took note of his, watching him closely before dropping eyes back to papers at her desk.

"Three calls home, no answer. His cell phone is turned off and his pager is here. So, no."

The oncologist nodded and they sat in grim silence for a few moments before the curly haired woman spoke up, "What happened?" It wasn't out of general interest from the rumors that were flying, it was more so a way to figure out just where their little foreign doctor could have gone off to. Chase valued his work far too much, obviously, to just leave it hanging. Something terrible must've happened.

A nervous laugh escaped the oncologist, "What did _I_ do? What do you mean?"

"Don't pull that. What happened between you two?"

The oncologist ran a hand over his face for a moment, bringing his hands to rest at his hips.

"We separated."

A sigh escaped those ruby painted lips and she merely shook her head. Sure, anyone would have seen it coming. The relationship was an oddity in itself and both men were thought to have preferred the women, definitely. But all things had to come to an end, of course.

"Well, it's in your best interest to find him. We're highly understaffed and I'm willing to bet you know where to look for him."

Wilson opened his mouth for protest, but the look on her face tells him not to challenge her now, to not even protest or he'd be in it up to his ears. So with something of a scowl pulled over his lips, he turns and lets out a sigh, exiting the office.

-+-

When he arrives at Chase's home, he knocks on the door for a long while, waiting for an answer. His first assumption is that Chase is ignoring everything. He can imagine the man pulling a childish stunt as such. Especially if the blond realized that was wrong.

James was still certain that he had done nothing terribly wrong. He would've explained, but the intensive did nothing to allow that at all. Communication in a relationship was one of the simplest things and if they couldn't even do that then it was hard to try and imagine where they would've ended up.

Escaping thoughts, as to not make things more difficult for himself, he fished into his pockets and pulled out his keys. Why he hadn't removed the key yet, he didn't know, but for now, he would use it to his advantage, maybe leave it for Chase on his way out. Entering the apartment, it was just as dark as he had left it a few days before. Shutting the door behind him and flipping on the lights, the oncologist realized that this place he considered his home not too long ago, now felt so alien to him. He felt like he was entering a stranger's home.

"Chase?" Emotionless voice called out as he wandered through the apartment. Everything was untouched and there were no evident signs of the intensivist's return.

Moving into the bedroom, he noticed the blankets still on the floor from the day he was ill. Everything was as he left it, picture perfect.

And this made him feel sick at his stomach, it made him want to leave right then and there and forget – forget it all.

_You don't love him, you don't love him…_

He sat on the edge of the bed, Chase's side of the bed and found he was lost in thought and almost, sort of wishing there was a head of blond hair for him to reach out and pet. It was routine, it was habit, and he made a note to clear his mind of everything. But when he did sit his hand down, he found that fingertips grazed cool beads and even the slightest edge of metal. Looking down, you see his rosary, one he hardly used but kept it stashed under his pillow. He's not sure why Chase ever kept it, because the blond was never too terribly religious, but it made him smile. He knew it shouldn't have, it made him smile wider than anything else.

He picked up the rosary and rolled the beads around in his palm, staring at it pensively. He's not sure when he decided to pocket it, but he does, and turns immediately to look at the telephone. Chase clearly wasn't at the apartment and hadn't been. Picking up the phone on his – Chase's –bedside table he dialed Cuddy.

"He's not here and he hasn't been here. I'm… not sure where else he could be."

It was the truth. Chase was so unpredictable, so spontaneous…

He could have been anywhere.

_You're not worrying, James, you're not worrying._

A sigh from the woman, "All right, I'll look into this some more."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"Of course. Goodbye."

If Cuddy was worried, then he let himself worry a little bit, too. It wasn't often the woman was visibly shaken. Then again, it wasn't often someone he had been close to just …

Up and disappeared.

Then again, it seemed to happen quite often for him. Thoughts of family and ex-lover were shoved out of his mind and he made sure that he left the apartment as quick as possible.

If he wasn't attached to anyone, he could go back to avoiding and memories were a damn good thing to avoid sometimes.

-+-

_You also know it hurts more to wait for return that it does to run, so sometimes, home never looks so beautiful._


	4. Chapter 4: Salvation

_You hope she doesn't cry too much. After all, you never got to really thank her._



Days at work were becoming more tiring and she wasn't sure if she would exactly make it through the week. With an employee missing and House bothering her every ten seconds, there's little she can get done in the time she has to work. Sure, she's putting in overtime, but it's better now than later.

But if there's one good thing about staying in later than usual is that it provides more opportunity for thinking – not only for herself, but for her colleagues as well. James had approached her with another place that one might find Chase. Neither of them had the time to get up and leave right then to check out a possible dead end, but she offered to do it on her way home. That, and she figured on the off chance Chase was actually there, sending Wilson would've been disastrous.

She had gone to the Church closest to Chase's apartment, the one James had suggested. She didn't take note to the name, nor did she really care considering it was of Catholic denomination. She pulled into the parking lot and climbed from her car, glad that the rain (which seemed to only fall endlessly for the past few days) had turned into light flurries. It made much less of a mess. With heels clicking with each quick step, she entered the building adorned with elegant stained glass, statues and finely carved wood. It was breathtaking, really, even if she didn't know exactly who each figure was.

The Church was dark and very, very quiet. It definitely seemed to hold a sort of reverence she wasn't expecting at all. Walking in as quietly as possible, eyes skimmed the pews just inside the church. Walking slowly down the center aisle, with two large sets of pews at either side of her, she noticed, in the corner where there were many candles lit beneath a statue she recognized as the Virgin Mary, a person huddled before them on one of the kneelers just beneath it. The man was huddled over folded hands; his eyes shut tight and body shivering.

She watched him, intrigued for a moment before she approached, noticing the oddly matched clothes and bright blonde hair. Not only that, but she recognized the accent in his voice that was feverishly whispering prayers. He didn't seem to notice her at all, but Cuddy didn't mind it.

"Chase?" She said, placing a hand against the trembling man's shoulders, instantly feeling the cold that seeped from his body. The rain had gotten him good, it seemed.

He snapped up, blues wide and reddened. Robert struggles for words, but her serious expression tells him to be cautious with the woman, "I'm –"

"We're leaving, now." There was that official tone she often used in the office, but, if one paid enough attention, there was an underlying relief and concern there.

Thankfully, the Aussie didn't seem to protest and he merely stood up, whole body still trembling and followed her out of the church and into her car in grim silence. Climbing into the passenger's seat, blue eyes stayed glued to the window, watching things pass by.

After a few moments of still silence, she spoke up, "Are you completely insane?"

He looks up and gives a half smile, having expected the bashing to come sooner or later, "I'd like to think I have some sanity left in me."

"You've caused problems for the Diagnostics team and you're lucky I didn't pull your job. That stunt should've had you fired."

He hadn't considered his job before at all. He knew he should have, but he hadn't. Chase finally looks up from the window and over to her, as if contemplating the best words to say to her then. Obviously, he owed her more than he could really offer. She spared him and his job and… from the looks of things, she was taking him anywhere but his own home. Not that she knew where that was in the first place, but he was grateful either way. Sure, he would've preferred to stay in the church, but at least now he was company. Someone to talk to right then and there. He didn't have to wait for answers.

"I…I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly." Chase sighs lightly and runs a hand up through his wet hair, only to bring it back down for a few shallow coughs.

"You're only human." She mutters sympathetically, figuring the argument was better saved for a day when they were both well rested.

Cuddy pulls her car into her own drive way, not sure why she's even keeping the intensivist at her own home, or if the man even wants to stay, but it was a mechanical movement, it was a habit, one of the only relatively safe places she could think of. And, with chase in his rather ill condition, she didn't want to leave him to the care of a stranger or House (whom she actually had considered).

Getting out, she gestures him inside and finds it's all too weird to bring anyone but herself into her home. It's not often she has relatively bearable company in her presence, none the less an employee, but she just shrugs it off for now. After all, there's always the morning.

"Go take a shower and I'll find you something to wear, I suppose." It's awkward, but it's what he needs. Hell, the boy looks a lot better just being somewhere safe, somewhere warm – somewhere mostly unfamiliar.

And he silently complies, a blush easily pushed in on his face. It's a tense situation, but anything was better than the bus' bench or the stormy night as his blanket. And sure, maybe she is his boss, his colleague, but right now, She's about the only thing close to a friend that he has.



When all is said and done, Chase finds himself wrapped up in blankets (and some old scrubs Cuddy managed to dig out) in the guest room of the woman's house, feeling the safest he has in the past few days. Sure, he's running a fever and his body feels run down and pained, but other than that, he's relatively content. Sleep, you know, will never come as easy as it would that night.

Cuddy slowly moves to the doorway, uncertainly looking in at the Aussie curled up in the bed. She knows she's crazy for letting him stay there, but she reasons that no one is perfectly sane, either.

"You're on a few days of paid vacation right now."

"What a vacation." Chase mumbles sarcastically, causing both to smirk a little bit.

"Rest up while you can. And…" She hesitates, not sure if it is exactly her place to speak of the situation, "You don't have to go home."

There's an unspoken understanding between the two of them, and Cuddy disappears down the hallway to her own room.

Even amongst the bad things, sometimes, Chase feels he's amongst blessed.



_But you know she will be strong, even if it means she's lonely again. _


	5. Chapter 5: Retribution

_You always told yourself that you were beyond him. He wasn't good enough for you anyway. But, like House reminded you, 'everybody lies'. _

-x-

It takes three days at Cuddy's for Chase to finally pull himself up to leave her home, if only temporarily. He's afraid to know just what might be left for him at his apartment, but he goes anyway. Sitting in Cuddy's car isn't nearly as awkward as it was the first time she picked him up. If anything, the three days were particularly calming and Chase found that he and Cuddy actually get along quite well.

Fingers play over the seat belt's strap with the slightest hint of nervousness and Cuddy picks this up in the intensivist.

"Chase…" She murmurs as the car pulls up to a light.

The intensivist looks up quickly and raises an eyebrow in the woman's direction, "Hm?"

Blues upon blue sit for a long while, merely staring, reading, interpreting; she's trying to tell him to stop hurting, to move on, to become that quirky, deceptive doctor she had known. He's trying to tell her he's fighting but everything is still just a little too raw to quit hurting altogether. Perhaps that is what makes him feel closer to Cuddy – the unspoken little exchanges they share are enough to keep him going. They're both familiar with loneliness so silence is something they know how to use well enough.

It's only when they reach the apartment that Chase really smiles at her, "Thanks, really."

"It's not a problem. Now, don't be late for work."

The teasing authoritative tone to her voice allowed them to share a quick laugh before he slipped out of the car and began the walk to his apartment. Once within, he could feel a dark shudder instantly falling over his body. Everything reminded him of James. It still smelled like him, felt like him completely.

He turned on the lights and felt as though he'd find the oncologist waiting for him in the kitchen or find the man asleep in the bedroom. But the chilling silence told him that he would find no such thing at all. Dropping his things onto his couch, the Aussie moved back to his bedroom to fish out clothes for work.

Opening the closet, he picked through his shirts and suits until he found an outfit he considered all right (although its color scheme might bring tears to one's eyes) and began to dress him. Only when he came to search through ties, did he freeze, fingers grazing the silk of a tie that was anything but his own.

-x-

It was rare that the oncologist was ever really dreading work, but today, for some reason, it was harder to pull himself out of bed. Perhaps it was because living with House was wearing on him, but either way, Wilson hated the tired feeling he had. He smiled and chatted briefly with whatever nurse called him over, but he was relieved to finally reach his office. He didn't have any appointments until 11 and he was always an expert at putting off some papers until the evening. Besides, it wasn't like he had too much to look forward to, anyway.

Fumbling with his keys, he noticed that the door had already been unlocked and that the lights were on. His first assumption was House, so he entered the room without care but what he found startled him, to say the least.

"Fancy meeting you here." The oncologist mused to the Australian whom appeared particularly terrified that he had been caught. But he observed the man was also on his way out and that there was a small bag on his desk.

"I left the key on the desk, too." The Aussie crossed arms over his chest and moved to open the door of the office.

"Cameron's been looking for you. You sent the woman into a fit of worry." Oh, but James would not admit that he, too, had been into something of a worry fit.

"It's just Cameron." Chase mumbled, eyes looking anywhere but the other man's, "I'll see you around. Have a good day."

And Wilson wanted to stop the man from leaving, to heal the hurt he saw radiating off of his --- well, what was his – Aussie, and apologize, even if he didn't truly need to apologize. But he didn't stop him, again. He left the blond to walking out alone, unaccompanied. And again, that feeling of regret washed through him, but he dismissed it.

Things were over.

And he's found that dwelling on the past only hurts more.

-x-

_Yeah, you needed him still but, like always, he didn't need you._


End file.
